


Enough

by catchmeifyoucreon



Category: Greek Tragedy, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Prophecy, Prophetic Visions, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3308657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catchmeifyoucreon/pseuds/catchmeifyoucreon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gods have taken enough from both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is set post-'Antigone'; Ismene has lost her whole family, except for her uncle Creon (who was responsible for the death of Ismene's sister Antigone). Manto is the daughter of the Theban prophet Tiresias. She never appears in the Oedipus Cycle, but I've always thought she'd be an interesting addition to the cast.

“My father can never see your future,” says Manto, as they lie in bed. Ismene’s legs are tangled with Manto’s as they stare at one another, nose to nose.

“I’ve never asked him to try,” says Ismene. She despises prophecies - this Manto can understand, having been an unwilling vessel of the gods’ prophecies since before she can remember. Prophecies have never brought anything but unrest and misery to Manto. To Ismene, though, they mean nothing less than calamity.

“It’s just as well you never asked,” says Manto, brushing aside a lock of dark hair that had fallen across Ismene’s face, hiding it half from view. “He can’t see anything for you, no matter how he tries.”

“Should that worry me?” Ismene bites her lip, and the hair drops back over her eyes.

“It’s not unheard of,” says Manto, which is a lie, and evasive to boot. It can’t be helped. She imagines that not having a future divinely written out and revealed must be something of a relief, in some ways.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you see anything about me?”

“No,” says Manto, and this time it’s the truth. The gods have sent her nothing, not even the smallest glimpse. “And I’ve never tried.”

Ismene smiles for an instant, her cheeks dimpling beneath the veil of hair. “Well,” she says. “We’ll find out in our own time.”

Manto doesn’t say what they are both thinking. She may not know Ismene’s future, but she knows her own like the back of her eyelids. In _her_ future, Ismene is nowhere to be seen.

Ismene reaches out, and gently runs a hand through her hair, and Manto shivers at the cool touch against her scalp. When they kiss, it feels like the last time, and Manto breathes hot against Ismene’s neck when they part, pressing her lips to Ismene’s collarbone. She can feel Ismene's blood pulsing through her veins, and the thought of it makes her feel free.

“They can’t take this from us,” Manto whispers. She knows it’s too naive to be true. “They’ve taken enough.”

Ismene sighs, her blue-tipped fingers slipping beneath the sheets to grasp Manto’s warm hands.

“ _This_ is enough.”

The gods have got to them already.


End file.
